


Yesterday

by Nori



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hawke family feelings, Pre-Series, and poor attempts at humor, probably mentions of Malcolm and Leandra, probably wildly ooc because I have no idea what I'm doing, shrugs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 06:32:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3280268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nori/pseuds/Nori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blink and you might miss it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yesterday

**Author's Note:**

> I have too many feelings about the Hawke family and not enough skills to properly write them down. I'm trying. May someday write more and/or delve into my Hawke's adventures in Kirkwall. Default snarky Garrett with a healthy dose of diplomacy. Unbeta'd.
> 
> Summary a reference to Carver's "I think I blinked and missed it" dialogue from Legacy DLC.

She’s cutting carrots for the stew that will serve as dinner when the commotion starts. Carver’s voice rising in anger, cracking with youth, a bang that rattles the walls of their little cottage, and the all too familiar ripple of power through the air that signifies her older brother’s magic coming to life. Fear and frustration stir in her belly, and she scrambles for the door, dropping the knife somewhere in her fluster. 

She knows her brothers love each other, would do anything to protect each other, but she also knows how stupid they are. When they get fighting, they forget all about a life on the run and nosy neighbors and templars. Lothering has been good to them, been good to Mother and Father, and she won’t let her brothers ruin it all because of their petty squabbling. 

The sun is high in the sky when she hurtles through the door, and she squints against the brightness. She hears another loud wallop and lopes around the house, hand raised to combat the light stinging her eyes. Her brothers she finds grappling against the back wall of the house, huffing like angry brontos. Garrett has all the body of a grown man, but Carver has been swinging a sword ever since the night years ago when he’d climbed into bed with her and tearfully admitted he was jealous of her magic. The physical training gives him just enough advantage to shove his elder brother back against the wall with a resounding crack. 

Carver snarls, anger marring whatever word he was trying to say, and Garrett laughs, taunting her twin with a nasty smirk. Carver strains and Garrett grins and Bethany bursts into tears. She wishes Father were home from his latest foray into the wilds, or that Mother hadn’t decided to make the trek to Lothering proper to buy supplies this afternoon. She wishes Garrett would stop tormenting her twin and that Carver would stop rising to the bait. 

“Stop it!” she shrieks, rushing forward. She wraps both of her small hands around Carver’s forearm, pulling him away from their brother weakly. “Stop fighting!” Garrett, six years their senior, sobers immediately and the aura around him shudders once before he successfully stifles it. Carver’s arm relaxes in her grip and he steps back slowly. Bethany sobs, releasing her twin to scrub at her eyes furiously, feeling the fool for crying in front of both her brothers. 

“Bethy,” Garrett murmurs consolingly, hooking a hand around the back of her neck and carefully pulling her into a hug. He has large, rough hands that remind her so much of Father. “I’m sorry, Bethany. It’s all right. We won’t fight anymore. Right, Carver?” Her twin grumbles an affirmative behind her, and though she knows it’s not true, she swallows back more tears. 

“Okay,” she whispers, voice high and tight, wrapping her arms around Garrett’s broad shoulders. He rubs her back firmly, waiting for her breathing to return to normal after the sudden bout of tears. 

“You know Carver and I wouldn’t hurt each other, right?” Garrett asks quietly. Carver snorts, and she feels Garrett make a short, sharp gesture over her shoulder. She nods, despite the silent fight she knows her brothers are currently engaging in. 

“I don’t know why you have to be such a cry baby about it, Beth,” Carver pipes up harshly. Garrett’s teeth click together hard and Bethany twists to glare over her shoulder. 

“I’m not a cry baby!” she snaps. 

“Yes, you are,” Carver grunts petulantly. 

“Carver,” Garrett warns, voice dropping low in a startlingly close imitation of their father. 

“Stop!” Bethany yells before either of them can start on the other, stepping away from Garrett to stand between them. “What if somebody hears and comes to check on us? What if someone finds out and tells on us and the templars come to take us away?”

Garrett, as the one Mother charged to watch over the house today, has the decency to look contrite. Carver, on the other hand, crosses his arms over his chest and toes at the dirt. 

“Your stupid templars,” he grumbles sullenly. 

“You don’t mean that,” Bethany gasps, looking aghast at her twin. He says stupid things all the time, but surely he cares enough about their family to be concerned about the templars. Carver pouts, looking away and shrugging too casually. 

“Ah, you’d miss us if we were gone,” Garrett chimes in, gleefully reaching out to mess up his little brother’s hair. 

“Knock it off,” Carver yelps, ducking and batting Garrett’s hand away. “Don’t you have chores to do?”

“ _Me?_ ” Garrett asks, planting a hand on his chest dramatically. “What about you two? Didn’t Mother say something about coming home to dinner and a clean house?” He offers his siblings a cheeky grin before strolling off, whistling some jaunty tune. 

“Ugh, I don’t want to clean the house,” Carver gripes, shoulders sagging under the weight of such responsibility. Bethany opens her mouth to tease him, when she remembers what she’d been doing before their scuffle interrupted her. 

“The stew!” she shouts, bolting for the door with a strangled scream in her throat. She can hear Carver lumbering along behind her as she hustles inside to check on the pot hanging over the cooking fire. She watches him from the corner of her eye as she tends to the food. He hovers in the doorway, shifting his weight from foot to foot and rubbing his hands together. Awkward, working up his nerve. She knows her twin too well.

“Carver, could you grab my knife? I dropped it over there.” She waves a hand vaguely in his direction and smiles to herself as he stoops to find it. He has something to say, something he wouldn’t be caught dead saying in front of their brother. It makes her laugh, how comfortable either boy is with her and how stubbornly tough they remain around each other. _Boys_. How ridiculous.

Her thoughts are interrupted by Carver thunking the knife down on the table with far more force than strictly necessary. 

“Go easy,” she winces, as Carver simultaneously starts with, “Beth, I…”

Their eyes meet, his steely blue like Mother’s and hers a rich brown like Father’s. She laughs and Carver answers with a little smile. It’s a smile she seldom sees anymore. 

“What were you going to say?”

“It’s nothing,” Carver mumbles, waving the thought away with a hand. “Sorry for earlier. I know how much you hate to be distracted from your womanly duties.”

Bethany squawks, taking hold of her long forgotten carrot and brandishing it like a sword. “What did you say?”

Carver clambers across the room, holding up both hands and choking back laughter. “Sorry,” he calls, “I have work to do. Gotta go.” And then he’s slinking out the doorway. 

Bethany’s laughter fills up the empty house much better than her stew fills up empty bellies.


End file.
